I Shall Be Released
by BrilliantDarkness
Summary: The world has changed drastically in the 100 years that Teaspoon Hunter has walked the earth. He believes he is no longer necessary. A journey with his grandson will prove him wrong.


**Spring 1918**

"How are you feeling today, Granddad?" the young man inquired with a gentleness that reminded the old man of someone. Most days he could remember who even but at the moment it just seemed too much effort to think. "I brought you your oatmeal. We'll get you packed after breakfast."

"Packed?"

"Don't you remember? Cousin Irma is moving you to be with her. She has extra space and you always liked where she lives. It's still wild there."

Teaspoon nodded absently. He knew he was just being shuffled from one grandchild to another but the pictures of where Irma Cody lived looked nice enough. He was sure he'd even been there. Thought he recalled liking it too.

"When do we leave?" he asked.

"Not 'til this afternoon. We have a sleeping car on the train so you can be comfortable overnight."

Teaspoon blinked up at the young man. He was a young man. More often than not, the younger ones didn't come in to talk to him. This was…oh, what was his name?

"It's Paul," the young man filled in and Teaspoon wondered if he had asked the question out loud. The kid smiled.

"I could see you trying to think of my name," Paul explained. "I know Cousin Jamie usually brings you your breakfast."

Paul watched the old man's brow furrow.

"Cousin Jamie is Kid and Lou's oldest," Paul explained. "It's okay. I know we all get confused in your head sometimes. You are a hundred years old, Granddad. You can't expect to keep track of everyone you know."

Teaspoon didn't know why he felt like crying right then. He wasn't a man prone to tears although he was a sentimental enough sort, he guessed.

"Paul?" he whispered, trying to place the name.

"My grandpa rode for you too," Paul filled in. "Buck Cross. His oldest son, Ike, is my father."

"Buck," Teaspoon said with a smile. In his mind's eye, clear as day, much clearer than the present, he could see the past as it raced back to him.

Buck fighting to not laugh at the arrow Teaspoon had made. He knew Buck had been afraid of being turned away as he stood at that fence. Buck and Ike both had. But Buck was useful and Teaspoon was never one to turn away someone who could help. Of course, he'd never turn away from an Indian just because of the color of his skin either. He'd lived among them from time to time and had come to know the wisdom in their lives.

Poor Buck didn't know any of that at the time though. It was best he didn't. He wanted these boys off balance a little. Off balance left them looking to grasp hold something stable and that something stable was what he had to offer. His bag of tricks.

"You should eat, Granddad," Paul's gentle voice pulled Teaspoon from his memories of his first meeting with his boys.

"Porridge," Teaspoon chuckled. "Just like Jimmy used to make. You didn't get to meet your uncle Jimmy…"

"No, I didn't," Paul confirmed. "He died well before I was born. My dad was just a boy. Grandpa Buck told me some good stories about him. Not as good as yours, though. I made the mistake of using his other name just once. Grandpa tore into me something awful. He said I was damned lucky it was him and not you or Aunt Lou who heard me say it. I never confused the two again."

"He was a good boy," Teaspoon said softly and it wasn't clear, even to the old man himself, if he was talking about Buck or Jimmy. They were all so precious to him. They were all good boys. He saw it soon enough after he met them and no matter who tried to tell him different, he always knew how good they were. "You're a good boy too. Jimmy would've liked you."

"Everything I've heard about him," Paul replied, "I think I would have liked him too. He was a good man, according to Grandpa Buck."

Teaspoon stayed quiet and ate his breakfast while the memories overtook him. He recalled every time he and the others had teased Jimmy about his limited skill in the kitchen. Truth was, Jimmy was the only one of them brave enough to attempt anything at all.

He missed his boys. He missed all of them. They were all gone too soon. No one should outlive their children but especially not a man who was already middle aged before he even met them.

"Are you alright, Granddad?" Paul's concern brought Teaspoon out of his memories. "Are you in pain?"

Teaspoon became aware of the tears, only a few, making meandering tracks down his age-weathered cheeks. He shook his head.

"Not any pain you can do anything about…just remembering."

Paul didn't say anything. He merely placed a hand on the old man's shoulder and squeezed gently. Paul was a good boy and so much like his grandfather. He even looked like him. The same sharp features, the same long, lanky build and the same quietly intense eyes. Those eyes could burn with a dangerous fire but more often than not, they possessed a peace and tranquility that Teaspoon now found comfort in. Buck was a hard one to win over but once won over, he loved his family with a ferocity that few could match. Paul had the same devotion to his family.

"Have I ever told you how much you remind me of your grandfather?" Teaspoon asked the young man in front of him.

"Do I?" Paul asked. He loved hearing stories of his Grandpa Buck. They helped fill out his memories of the man who had easily been his favorite person.

"Yeah…he was a proud man. I expect you knew him well enough to know that. When I met him, he was so…divided. His heart was, maybe his spirit too. But when it came to those he loved, well, that brought all the parts of him together."

Teaspoon paused and looked around seeing more shadows of the past than the present.

"I miss him."

"I do too," Paul said.

Silence fell over the pair as Paul went to the closet and pulled out a suit of clothes for the older man.

"It's time to get you dressed," he said. "Before the others get here."

"Others?"

"Jamie's kids are coming over," Paul clarified. "And my sister, Lucy. We're going to have a little party for you. Everyone here is going to miss celebrating your birthday with you, you know. A hundred and one years old, you'll be. That's pretty impressive. And they want to say goodbye."

"We're leaving later, right?"

"Yes we are," Paul confirmed. He knew he'd have to confirm and remind numerous times more and probably have to remind his great-grandfather where they were heading once on the train. "Cousin Irma is waiting for us. She and the children are really looking forward to you coming."

"Irma has children now?"

"Yes Granddad, three of them. Jane is the oldest and she's nine now. Remember we met the children at Uncle Bill's funeral last year? Jane and Freddie and Willie?"

"Is my little Arta Lu going to be there? She was always such a sweet girl."

"Granddad, Arta passed fourteen years ago. Her daughter will be there. For a few days to see you settled in and her son, Bill. You remember Bill, don't you? He's got to be in his early twenties now."

"That's right. Poor Cody. Burying all them young 'uns. I guess I know how he feels."

As hard as it was for Teaspoon to think on his own pain at having buried every one of his unofficially adopted children, it hurt worse to think of the heartache poor Cody had gone through. Only one of Cody's four children outlived him. Just the youngest, Irma, remained.

It was one thing to bear hardships himself but he hated seeing any of his children dealing with those things. He knew better than to ever think he could spare them but it hurt him all the same.

"You don't got no young 'uns of your own yet, do you?" Teaspoon asked Paul.

"Not yet," Paul answered trying for a smile. "Thought it'd be best to get me a wife first."

"Does work better that way," Teaspoon mused. "Though if the good Lord wants a child in your life, He'll put one there. Don't you doubt it neither."

"I know."

* * *

On the train, Paul sat on his own bed, that he hadn't made up yet, and watched his great-grandfather sleep. He could not help the smile that turned his mouth upward as he noted the similarities between the man and his sister's three year old, Nell. He looked so innocent and peaceful as he slept.

It wasn't even dark yet but Granddad had a long day. He could probably knock next door and see if his cousin, Louise, was up for heading to the dining car for a bit. If he had wanted company that was. Louise was Jamie's youngest child and had been named for her grandmother.

But Paul didn't really want company and he really didn't want to sit in a noisy dining car. He was content right where he was watching the older man sleep.

He called the man on the cot Granddad and introduced him as his great-grandfather. But he knew the man was no more blood relation to him than Cousin Louise. Many might point out that blood is thicker than water but Paul knew better than most that there were things much thicker than blood. His extended family had been pieced together but it was stronger than most others.

It had been a good day with Granddad. He had been more lucid today than most days. It was good for him to be around family. It was sad too. Paul noticed the moisture in the old man's eyes more than once.

His "boys" were all gone now. Paul had never even met some of his great-uncles. Ike, Noah and Jimmy were all gone well before he was born. Kid died when Paul was very young. There was an accident on their ranch and infection set in. Aunt Lou lived on for many years and then she got sick. The doctors never could figure out exactly what was wrong with her. She just kept wasting away until there was nothing left. That had only been maybe four or five years ago. His Grandpa Buck had died when Paul was in his mid-teens, he thought. He had never gotten a clear answer on the cause of death either. Just that he was gone from them. And then, just last year, Uncle Bill had gone. He was the last of them. The last of Teaspoon's boys.

The party had been a success. No one had ever known what day Granddad's birthday was, not even Granddad. But they had a day that had been chosen way back during the Pony Express days and that was still a month off. But, since he was leaving for cousin Irma's now, they had an early birthday party for him. He was one hundred years old to his calculations and that was something impressive. Even more impressive was how close he was to a hundred and one. And, given they didn't know the exact date of his birth, he might even have reached that milestone already.

Nearly everyone was at the party. Jamie was there and his sister Emma with her children. And all of Jamie's children as well. And Paul's father Ike and Uncles Noah and Jim. So many cousins and even cousin Rose. She had shown up one day at Grandpa Buck's. Paul was very young and had been visiting his grandparents when she turned up.

Her name was Rose and she had always gone by her mother's name of Watson but she said that her mother had told her that her father was a man named Hickok. That he was thought by many to be some fearsome gunfighter but that he was a tender and gentle man. The stories Rose's mother had told of him were ones that he would have only told to someone special to him. Grandpa Buck hadn't needed the stories though, or the fact that Rose had been given his name and Teaspoon's to guide her to find what there was of Jimmy's family. He looked into her golden eyes and knew she was his brother's child. She had been a member of the family since.

When she had married, her beau had been approved by the uncles and cousins. Her children were as much Paul's cousins as any of the others. Her presence brought such a comfort to Granddad. Paul wondered on it once not long before Grandpa Buck had died. He remembered the conversation like it was yesterday. He felt he knew Teaspoon, Uncle Jimmy and Grandpa Buck better afterward.

"Your granddad loved us all," Grandpa Buck had said. "We were all his children as if he'd sired each and every one of us. Every parent sees themselves in their children. Sometimes we see a child who is a near perfect copy of us and we want to save them from our mistakes and we want to help them learn the lessons we learned. We can't really. Every generation has to discover the wheel, as your granddad says. But, as parents, we want to. Teaspoon knew the road Jimmy put himself on. He'd been on it himself and had been able to jump off before it reached the ugly end. He wanted to save your uncle. We all wanted to save Jimmy. Your uncle was a good and kind man with a big heart and a fierce devotion to his family. But he never saw those things in himself. He saw his flaws and he saw his demons. When we lost Jimmy, it killed all of us just a little. He wasn't the first we lost and he sure wasn't the first who died so violently.

"But his was the most senseless. Ike...Ike died for love and there ain't a much better reason in the world if you have to go. It was tragic and it took a long time for me to come to terms with it but he died defending the woman he loved and that is something precious. My brothers tried to help. They were hurting too but...well, they tried. And I guess the spirits gave me some perspective. A woman. She needed my help. There was no one else. She was having a baby. I think that helped but it wasn't until after I met your grandmother that I truly understood what Ike had done and why. Until you meet someone you love like that...well, let's just say that my life for hers would be a fair trade in my estimation.

"Noah died for an ideal he held so tightly. One I agreed with. One Jimmy did too. I know Jimmy carried guilt about it but it wasn't his fault and Noah would have undoubtedly died for the cause in some other way. But Jimmy...he didn't even see it coming. He was shot in the back of the head, Paul. The man claimed Jimmy killed his brother but he couldn't ever prove such a thing. The rest of the world lost a legend, a name on a dime novel. Hell, they didn't really lose a thing. They can make up even more stories about him now he's dead. We lost...we lost something precious that day.

"Teaspoon took it hardest of all. He saw it as his failure. Having Rose come into our lives...it was getting a little back of what we lost. A little piece of Jimmy. Someone else who knew what he was even though she never met him. And she looks so much like him. She smiles like him...and those eyes. I think she even carries his ghosts."

Paul hadn't asked anymore about Cousin Rose. He watched how the others were with her and knew he loved her for the comfort she brought his uncles.

Now, as he sat watching Granddad Teaspoon sleep, he thought he better understood all the ways that Rose's presence in their lives helped heal the wounds within the old man. And he was an old man. Jamie told tales of Teaspoon in his heyday, or closer to it. Jamie had the best tales. How Granddad had been a marshal and stood toe to toe with the hardest men around. Even as a young boy, Paul had seen Teaspoon as a vibrant man. He was a barrel chested man with an unquenchable appetite for food, for adventure, for life. Many was the afternoon that Paul had spent by some lazy river or little pond with a line in the water listening to Teaspoon tell him of the Alamo, or the war between the states or his uncles...or any number of other things. Now Granddad was small and frail. So small and frail that Paul had carried him onto the train as one might carry a baby or small child. He hardly weighed a thing.

Once set down, Granddad had gone almost immediately to sleep. The party, all the activity, had worn him out. Paul couldn't help but smile at how the man had laughed as he watched the little ones running around him even as parents chased after them, scolding them all the way.

"Aw, let 'em have their fun," he'd grumbled at the stern parents. He scowled but it amused him all the same.

At one point, little Sam, his sister Lucy's baby, fell asleep on the old man's lap. It was a beautiful sight.

Paul's smile faded as he watched the old man now start to grow restless in his sleep. He heard him repeating the word _"N__o__"_ over and over.

"Granddad," he said softly as he knelt next to where the man slept. "Wake up. It's just a dream."

Slowly Teaspoon's eyes opened and focused on the young man at his side.

"Ike...Noah..." his raspy voice trailed off. He looked around as if seeing the very spirits that haunted him in every corner before adding in a whisper, "My boys."

"Tell me," Paul encouraged as he settled himself on the floor. "Tell me about your boys."

"You don't want them old stories," Teaspoon protested.

"Maybe some of the others don't," Paul agreed. "But I do. I've always loved hearing about my uncles. You woke up speaking of Ike and Noah. I never met them. My dad was named for Ike and my uncles for Jimmy and Noah but I've never met any of their namesakes. They never did either. I've only ever known what you and Grandpa Buck told me. Tell me more about them."

"You know it all, already..."

"I doubt that's true. I met Uncle Kid and Aunt Lou and I knew my grandfather and I knew Uncle Bill quite well...but I don't think I could possibly know all about the ones I never met. Ike, Noah...Jimmy."

"Ike..." Teaspoon began, allowing the memories to wash over him as welcome rain waters after a drought. "Ike was the tenderest soul I think I've ever known."

Paul placed his hand over Teaspoon's and patted lightly as if comforting a child.

"You remind me a little of him. I know he ain't no blood kin to you but you do all the same. Of course that might just be your grandfather I see in you too. He had quite the soft side if you took the time to look for it. But Ike...there was no looking and there was no searching for his soft side. It was the only one he had really. Even when he got mad and feisty, it was just because he'd gotten hurt or feared getting hurt. Sometimes I think he was too sensitive and about things he didn't need to be but then, I hadn't lived like he had either. I guess you know the fever took his hair and something else took his voice."

Paul nodded and patted the old man's hand again.

"I think he sometimes assumed the motives of others. I know more than once he assumed I passed him by on account of his not being able to talk. Of course I had Lou always thinking I passed her over on account of being a girl. Young people sure can be a hassle, you know that?"

"I'm sure we can be," Paul said.

"But it was easy to take most times with Ike because he was so darned nice," Teaspoon continued. "Tended the animals, had a way with them like few I've known. It was a shock how he died...that he would do what he did. But love can do that to a man. You ever been in love, Paul?"

"I thought so once or twice but I don't believe I really have...no."

"Love can make a mess of a man faster than anything," Teaspoon told him. "I know better'n most, I think. I've been in it more'n most men I know. Ike was truly in love with that gal. I can't say as I blame him much either. She was something else. Fiery and yet she had a sweet side to her too. She really was perfect for him. But she had to go off half-cocked after the man what killed her pa and Ike had to try to save her. He did save her too. Probably that helped him in his passing. Didn't help us none though. To think that the rest of us with all our flaws and such were still walking around and someone so perfectly gentle was gone...I think it was more than most of us could bear for a while. Your grandpa took it hardest. Ike and Buck were tighter than any brothers I ever met. Took a while for your grandpa to see he was still alive. I think it didn't make sense for a while that Ike could be dead if they weren't both dead. We helped him as best we could but most of the healing had to come from inside hisself."

Teaspoon took a shaky breath and Paul took up a handkerchief and dabbed at the old man's eyes.

"Now Noah...well, gentle ain't a word you'd associate with him much. He was brash and bold...and scared. More scared than he'd ever let on. He always claimed he was born to hang and I think he honestly believed it. Didn't keep him from fearing it though. He weren't one to show that fear though. He was like the others...well, like Jimmy and Cody...covering that fear with all the bluster he could manage. He was a proud man, Noah. A lot like your grandpa in a lot of ways. If it wasn't for that damned Burke woman...oh hell, who am I kidding? Noah was hell-bent on dying for the cause anyway. He'd've found a way to leave us in time. I don't blame him either. His daddy was killed for the cause. He saw his own people in chains. Even ended up in them himself a time or two. Wish he could've seen President Lincoln's proclamation though. Wish he could've seen all the hard work he and his daddy and Sally put into the cause come to some good. But he was like them...like Moses, I guess you could say...he could lead them most of the way there but wasn't allowed to see the promised land himself."

"I wish I could have met him. Ike and Jimmy too."

"Jimmy...yeah, Jimmy would've liked you. I really think he would've. I know he'd've loved Rose if he knew about her. All he wanted...all he ever wanted was to live a simple life. Really. He wanted a wife and children and a quiet life. He'd've thrived living like Kid or your grandpa did. The flashy life Cody had wasn't for him and the gunfighter's life...well, that ain't no life at all. He spent his whole life looking behind him. He got hisself killed on purpose, you know."

"Why do you say that, Granddad?"

"Jimmy developed certain...habits through the years. They kept him alive," Teaspoon explained. "He always sat with his back to the wall where he could see the door and as much of the room as possible. He always had the barmaids serve his drinks on his left side. He could shoot with both hands but he was faster and more accurate with his right. That day in Deadwood, he was sitting with his back to the door. He wanted to die, Paul. My boy just couldn't take it anymore. He'd just gotten himself married, did you know that?"

Paul nodded.

"Never met Aunt Agnes but her daughter...the one who rode for Uncle Bill's show...I met her a few times."

"He could've gone back to Agnes," Teaspoon nearly whispered. "She wanted him home. She didn't care about him going off and getting money. I do believe she really cared for him. He could've gone back to her. He could've come home to me. He could've come to any of his brothers. He didn't have to...he had choices. He always had choices. He just couldn't ever see them."

The last sentence was a whisper nearly swallowed by the old man's tears.

"Sometimes we can't see what's right in front of us, Granddad," Paul said softly. "Sometimes we can't believe it could be there because we can't see how we could ever deserve it."

"We ain't talking about your uncle anymore, are we?" Teaspoon asked. He was old and muddled a good deal of the time but when he was lucid, he was almost frighteningly perceptive.

"Maybe not," Paul half conceded. In truth, he'd volunteered to take Granddad out west to Cousin Irma's only in part because of his fondness for the old man. The rest of his reasoning had to do with the fact that Louise wouldn't be able to carry him and would need a man to help. Taking care of Granddad was more than just helping him move, he needed help bathing and dressing and using the bathroom and Paul didn't want Louise to have to do those things. Someone needed to help her. She had always been so fond of the man that she had jumped at the chance to travel with him. Everyone knew she'd need help and as they started talking about who it should be to help her, things became clear to Paul.

He'd not been home from the war for very long and he just couldn't seem to find his place. Every place seemed wrong or like he couldn't get comfortable. He contented himself with temporary jobs. Working a day here or there, unloading trucks or some such thing. Different boss and different job every day. It would be easier for him to go than anyone else. And maybe it would do him good to get a change of scenery. He had always liked visiting Uncle Bill. It felt like he could really breathe out there.

He guessed he had always thought something was missing in himself. He searched for the tranquility he once found in his grandfather's eyes but had never found it for himself. All the stories Granddad told gave him so much but not the key to that one thing he needed more than anything else. He had thought a purpose, a cause...that would help. And the war seemed to fit his needs. Granddad hadn't liked his decision to join up. Said he didn't know what he was getting himself into.

Granddad had been so right. The number of times he thought he just wanted to walk away. It almost seemed worth the death he would face for deserting. There was no honor or purpose to be found in war. He wished like hell he had listened to Granddad. He thought he knew so much. He thought he was running toward some wonderful future. In truth he was only running away from his own lack of self.

"I know you've had a time of it, son," Teaspoon said softly. "I know the war...well, I know you wish you hadn't joined up. We both wish that. You been searching for something your whole life, haven't you? You don't know what it is either."

Paul shook his head.

"I'm starting to wonder if I'll even know it if I see it."

"Oh you'll know. I don't doubt that. Your grandfather was the same restless spirit. I guess he had a reason to be. Maybe you do too. But he found a home. And a family."

"I have a family, Granddad."

"But you don't feel like one of 'em, do ya, son?"

Paul shook his head. It wasn't even a sad gesture...more a bewildered one. He had all that Teaspoon's boys could have dreamed of growing up, but never really appreciated it. He loved his family. His father was a good man and had done right by him. But he still felt lacking. More and more as he grew older he realized it wasn't anything lacking in his life but something missing within himself. It had to be.

Paul finally got Teaspoon settled and back to sleep and realized he was hungry. Looking outside, he could see that it was darker and thought maybe the dining car wouldn't be so busy. Maybe he could get a sandwich in relative peace and quiet and get back to the old man.

Closing the door behind him, Paul looked down the aisle way in the train car and caught his bearings enough to remember which way he needed to head to get to the dining car.

"Hey there, stranger," a voice called behind him. He looked to see his cousin, Louise, standing there smiling at him. Louise was a whole different breed of woman. Hell, she was a whole different breed of person. There wasn't a one of the extended family that was more like Louise's namesake.

Aunt Lou was a walking contradiction at times. She was a lovely and petite woman who could bake a cake, sew a dress and host an afternoon tea with the best of them but no one ever dared forget that she had ridden with men in the Pony Express. She had ridden next to them, fought next to them, worked next to them and held her own through it all. She could tear a person apart with her words, a look or even have them looking down the barrel of a gun. And no one ever dared accuse her of not knowing what to do with the firearm or of not having the guts to pull the trigger.

Cousin Louise was cut from the same cloth as her grandmother. She was beautiful. Paul had always thought so. Even when he was much younger and considered girls disgusting he was transfixed by her deep blue eyes. Her eyes were like her father's and, he had been told, like her grandfather's. But the rest of her was all her grandmother. Her dark chocolate brown hair, the mirthful and mischievous smile, the tiny build and the fire that could rage within her at the drop of a hat.

"I don't suppose you'd care to buy a lady a drink," Louise said with a playful smile turning the corners of her mouth.

"I think I'd like that actually," Paul answered. He had come out with the intention of remaining alone but suddenly some company—no, not _some _company, _Louise's _company—seemed like a very good idea.

They proceeded to the dining car and placed their orders before settling into a booth.

"So, how's he doing?" she asked seriously once they had their drinks and sandwiches in front of them.

"He's been very lucid all day," Paul replied. "And in good spirits, mostly. He gets sad when he thinks about the uncles. And he had some trouble sleeping. I think the memories got into his dreams."

She nodded and looked to ponder something before she spoke again.

"And how are you doing? Keeping the memories out of_ your_ dreams?"

"Sometimes...sometimes not," he told her honestly. It never did well to try to lie to Cousin Louise. She could see through bull like few he knew. He watched warily as her deep blue eyes clouded with concern.

"Can I...can I tell you something, Paul?" Louise asked and something in her was nervous or tentative. Neither was a trait she was known for. He simply nodded for her to continue.

"I haven't told anyone else," she said. "I guess I didn't trust anyone else. But you and me...we always sort of understood each other, didn't we?"

"I guess we did," he acknowledged. "What's got you so upset, Louise?"

"I-I'm not going back," she said with her familiar assuredness. "I'm getting granddad settled and then getting myself settled too. Or as settled as I figure I could learn to be. I'm going to stay out west."

"Do your folks know?"

She shook her head.

"No one knows but you and me," she smiled conspiratorially. "When Dad calls you up, you should probably lie and say you tried to talk me out of it."

"Are you so sure I'd have to lie?"

"I know you, Paul," she said flatly. "For one thing, you're too smart to waste your breath arguing with me when my mind's made up. Dad forgets what Grandma Lou was like but I remember full well. It ain't just a happy coincidence I got her name. I got lots more of her than that. And for another thing, I think you get it. I think you understand. Maybe you'll even end up staying too. At least for a while."

"Why would I stay?" he asked.

"So you won't have to go back," she answered quickly. "I know you're always trying to figure out who they all want you to be so you can be it. But maybe you need somewhere with clean air and open spaces to figure out who you want to be and maybe even who you are."

"I already know who I am...ain't nothing special about it. For sure nothing to take any pride in. If I doubted that before...well, the war..."

"Men die in wars, Paul," Louise stated simply. "You can want to change that but you can't do it."

"I didn't die," he pointed out. "Good men died over there. Men with a lot more to come home to. Men with a lot more to offer. I lived. Should've been me instead."

Paul took Louise's silence as agreement until he heard a noise. His head shot up. It sounded like sniffling. He tried to meet her eyes but couldn't. They were hidden in a handkerchief. He had never, in all his years, seen Louise cry.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No! I'm not okay," she snapped back at him. "I understand the guilt you feel. I try to cut you some slack but I just can't hear you wish yourself dead...you don't even think what that would do to the rest of us, what it would do to _me,_ do you? You selfish son of a-"

"I never fit in...everyone would get over it. At least then I'd be worthy."

"What the hell do you mean, worthy?" she fumed.

"I mean, all those stories that Grandpa Buck told and Aunt Lou and the rest of them. The ones that make Granddad look so proud. How they all defended each other...to the death even. I just saved my own self."

"To some of us, that's all that mattered," she whispered. "And you're forgetting that they couldn't always save their brothers, Paul. Noah died in Uncle Bill's arms. He and Uncle Jimmy always blamed themselves according to Grandma Lou. They fought for each other but even they couldn't stop someone from dying if it was his time."

"You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly," she nearly growled at him. "I understand too well. You're the one who doesn't understand a damned thing."

Her hand extended as if to reach for his but then she pulled it back harshly and stood.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said tersely as she stalked off.

Paul watched her as she disappeared from his sight and wondered about her actions. The whole exchange was unlike Louise. He'd never known her to be nervous or weepy or secretive about her intentions, even when those intentions would draw the ire of her family. It must be how much she'd miss Granddad. He could think of nothing else that would make her act so out of character.

Her words, the way she almost reached for him...something more was off with her but he couldn't place what it was. Shrugging, he stood and headed back to check on Granddad and see about getting some shut eye himself.

Paul quietly let himself into the small chamber and sighed in relief at the soft snores coming from the frail man on the cot. Granddad was still alright—still asleep, still peaceful and, a thought that struck him more and more the older the man grew, still alive.

He tried to sleep, tried ridding his mind of all thoughts, tried making lists of boring things, tried imagining happy times when it was just him and Grandpa Buck and the stories that he would hear. None of that worked. Sleep was not coming and the only thoughts in Paul's head were of Louise. Less and less he thought of her as 'Cousin Louise' and he wasn't sure why that was, really. The fact that they shared no blood had never mattered with any of the other cousins. Cousin Irma was Cousin Irma and Cousin Arta's daughter Arta was still his cousin and he thought of her as such.

Paul was closest to Louise of all the relatives, closer than any with whom he shared blood. It made no sense for his mind to want to drop the cousin from her title when he thought on her. If anything, he should want to stress that relationship.

Her words haunted his every attempt at slumber.

"_Maybe you'll even end up staying..."_

She sounded so hopeful and so shy when she'd said those words. Almost as if she was asking him to stay with her. And why did she sound so...unsure? No, unsure wasn't quite it...frightened. She sounded frightened. Louise wasn't scared by much. He couldn't think of one thing that scared her. Not anything girls were usually scared of. Not spiders or snakes. She was never scared of the dark as a child. But something scared her today.

He should ask her about that...if she spoke to him again. She was so angry when she had stomped off. He wasn't sure why she was so mad. He should be the one angry. She was the only person in the entire world who never tried to make him live to some ideal of his father. The only one who didn't point out multiple times a day how his father had a job just waiting for him in his real estate office and how willing he'd be, how proud to have his son take up the mantle and follow in his footsteps. And she was leaving him. She was abandoning him and _she _was angry?

She was angry, that much was certain. Paul turned the conversation over and over in his head. He had seen her mad before but never this mad and never at him. Her father made her angry and her mother. Occasionally the other cousins but she'd never directed her fire at Paul before.

"_I just saved my own self."_

"_To some of us, that's all that mattered."_

He began to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. She couldn't mean...oh God...

"_What it would do to me...what it would do to me..."_

He sat bolt upright and didn't even bother squinting against the darkness. He didn't need to see what was around him. He could finally see what was in front of him.

What was it he had said when Granddad was talking about Uncle Jimmy not seeing his choices?

"_Sometimes we can't see what's right in front of us. Sometimes we can't believe it could be there because we can't see how we could ever deserve it."_

That was it, after all, wasn't it? And Louise didn't seem to grasp it but he wasn't deserving. He doubted she would find anyone deserving of her but he surely wasn't. Tomorrow he'd talk to her. He'd make her see that he was no good. He'd tell her he didn't feel the same.

Except that he couldn't do that last part. She always knew when he was lying. Only five minutes ago he wouldn't have thought that was a lie. He now knew that it was.

Sleep was not going to come for him now. Not with her wounded blue eyes invading his thoughts.

Sitting up, he slid next to the window and contented himself with watching the darkened landscape fly by.

* * *

"What's eating you?" Teaspoon asked the young man.

Paul looked up in confusion.

"Nothing Granddad."

"You ain't touched none of your food and you ain't said three words to me all morning," Teaspoon said. "That's exactly how your grandfather would act when something was weighing heavy on his mind. I've told you...you're a lot like him."

"It's nothing," Paul repeated.

"Thinking about Louise?"

"Why would I be thinking about her?"

Teaspoon chuckled.

"I'm old and my vision's crumbling but some things I can see pretty damned clear. You got feelings for her. It ain't escaped my notice how you look at her, how your voice is different when you talk to her. Unless my eyes deceived me completely, the way she gets all flirty and cutesy when you're near, she's got a couple for you."

"Oh yeah...they ain't any too nice right now either," Paul said with a defeated sigh. "Just as well."

"I keep thinking maybe the next generation will finally get smarter than the last one but damn it all if each one isn't just as dumb as the one before," Teaspoon groused.

"You might have some years on me but you don't know everything," Paul shot back.

"I know a stubborn mule when I see one," Teaspoon argued. "Worse than your grandfather and Uncle Jimmy put together. Maybe a dash of Noah too. I am really too old for this."

"Then stay out of it," Paul fumed.

"Yeah, I probably ought to, but I'm too damn old to listen to good sense, boy. You're goin' to listen to me now."

"Now Granddad," Paul began in a warning tone.

"Now Granddad nothing," Teaspoon asserted. "I know you better than you know you. And I know what you was going to say. You love me but I can't understand what you've seen, what you've been through...I should mind my own business and stick to stories about the old days...something like that?"

Paul remained silent. That was nearly word for word what he planned to say.

"Thought so," Teaspoon said with an air of self-satisfaction. "I may be old and I may not fit this modern world. But some things do not change, young man. I keep wondering why the good Lord seems to've forgotten about me. I wonder why He ain't called me home yet...then I see one of you young 'uns being so fool headed that I know...I still got a trick or two in the old bag and damned if you all don't still need 'em."

Paul, again, remained quiet. It couldn't hurt to listen to Granddad some more. It made the old man feel good and besides, if he opened his mouth, the only thing he could say was how much it hurt when the old man talked about dying like that.

"Lots of folks want to yell that we should all remember the Alamo. Ain't likely I'll ever forget. I 'spect some have though. For one thing, it weren't no glorious battle. We got our backsides handed to us. Some good men died there. Men of legend...men what shaped this here nation into something to be proud of. And yet...I lived. There ain't glory in war, Paul. I tried to tell you that before you signed up. There ain't no glory in it. There's death. You cause it and you see it and it's all there is. You eat it, you breathe it and you sleep it...that is, when you can sleep for the very thought of it."

Paul looked at his hands in his lap. He couldn't have said it better himself. He still felt at times that he'd seen the truth of man's existence in the death of the battlefield. There was no meaning to life anymore than there was glory in battle. There was only death.

"I ain't sure I'd've gotten past all I seen...Not everyone gets over war. Some live it for the rest of their days. I might've been one of those too...but something saved me."

Paul looked up not so much from the words as the shake in his Granddad's voice when he said them. There were tears standing in his eyes and somehow Paul knew he was about to hear a story he'd not heard before. Maybe it was even one his grandfather hadn't heard.

"No...it wasn't something...it was...some_one._ Oh, I guess it was something too. Her name was Genevieve..."

His voice trailed into a sad smile.

"Sweet Genny," he continued. "Pretty thing...light brown hair that shone in the sun like it was sprinkled with gold dust...eyes that seemed to change with her moods...She was lovely."

"Which wife was she?" Paul asked and his tone earned him a glare from the older man.

"She weren't a wife," was the reply. "We knowed each other before the battle. I'd thought about courting her. I worried I couldn't provide for her good enough to suit her pa. After the battle...well, I went on back and she came around. She loved me just as much...and I loved her. I loved her innocence, her faith in a brighter day. It was infectious. She done lost her pa and her brothers in that stupid battle. She said that meant we could court on account there weren't no menfolk to ask permission."

"She didn't have anyone to look out for her?" Paul asked in wonder. He knew things were changing. Women were even getting the vote but in those days, it would have been terrifying for a young lady to be without a single person to look out for her interests.

"She had a ma and a couple sisters but they didn't have much say. I agreed with her, I guess and we began spending some time together. Good time, if you catch my meaning."

"Why Granddad...you cad!"

"Now, it weren't like that," the old man insisted. "We was in love and that's a beautiful thing. Everything that truly springs from love is beautiful. You might find that out yourself if you'd stop running from people."

"So what happened to Genny?" Paul asked in effort to take the focus off of himself.

"Well, me and Genny was near inseparable. We went on walks and picnics and sat under the stars at night just dreaming of how our lives would be. I wasn't quite ready to pop the question though. Something was holding me back. But slowly I was seeing some worth in myself. I mean, if a creature as lovely as my Genny could love me, could want to be with me and grow old with me then...well, then maybe there was more to me. Maybe there was a reason I was spared."

"But you didn't marry her...I don't understand."

"Most days I don't either. It was a fool thing, I see now. But that's getting ahead of the story. Like I said, we was nearly joined at the hip and it was good. I couldn't see ever wanting or needing anything but her in my life and I figured that if she was willing to let me try, I'd find a way to be worthy of her. But then it happened. We had been up all night and it ain't your business what we was doing neither. But we was still up to watch the sunrise. It was a lovely one that day too. Purples and oranges and yellows. So many shades of so many colors...breathtaking what nature can offer up to us, ain't it?"

Paul nodded. He, himself, was often struck dumb by the simple beauty that all too often went unnoticed around him.

"I looked over at Genny and was about to comment on how lovely the sky was but once I saw her, I couldn't say a word. All them colors was glinting off her hair, her skin, sparkling in her eyes. And she was just soaking it up. Her face was frozen in a smile and her eyes were wide with wonder. It was like a child seeing snow or tasting a strawberry for the first time. Such innocence, such beauty, so much that I wasn't deserving of. I couldn't live alongside anyone who could hold that wonder. I could only taint such a thing."

"You left?"

"I wrote her a long letter," Teaspoon acknowledged with a sigh and a shake of his head. "I told her of her beauty, of the wonder that I wasn't worthy of. I wished her well and told her she'd love again. I can only pray she did. And then, yeah...I left. I ran. I saw later, it wasn't my place to keep her pure...it was her purpose to purify me. Love can do that, Paul. It can make you clean again. It can make you whole."

Paul didn't respond at all.

"You can doubt me all you want," Teaspoon went on. "But I know. I doubted too. We forget women can take on more than we give them credit for. Ain't about taking care of them all the time. Sometimes it's about letting them take care of us. I spent the rest of my days looking for someone like Genny...looking for something like what she gave me. Thought I had a few times but I never did. Finally found the love when I stumbled on my boys. Wasn't the same as Genny but I think it finally healed me. Finally made me stop looking."

"So you're trying to tell me I should go and declare my undying love to Cousin Louise?"

"No," Teaspoon replied sarcastically. "I'm trying to tell you to go out and adopt seven orphans. Yes I mean you should talk to her. And the way you look at her, you should stop calling her cousin. You shouldn't watch your cousin's backside the way you do. It's unbecoming."

Paul looked uncertainly around for a moment and then stood almost reluctantly.

"Will you be alright for a few minutes?"

"I expect I will."

Paul walked out of the chamber and stood in the hall in front of Louise's door for a minute or two mustering the courage to knock. He did at last and then held his breath wondering what he would even say to her.

The door opened and for a moment he was struck by her simple beauty and then the anger returned to her. Her eyes, her perfect blue eyes. For just a moment there was joy in her sapphire eyes at seeing him. Delight. And then darkened to nearly black as she remembered to be thoroughly furious with him.

"What do you want?" she snarled.

He watched the storm pass through her eyes, and like the winds that precede a storm, they carried away the words he planned to say, leaving him with nothing. So he did the only thing he could think of. It was something he realized he had wanted to do for a very long time. He took her by the shoulders and brought his lips forcefully to hers. He kissed her soundly and when he pulled back, he could see that she was blinking and trying to catch her breath and her balance.

He smiled at her and was just about to tell her he loved her when her hand connected with his cheek. The sound echoed down the hall and he stood there stunned.

Louise looked as though she might speak. Her mouth opened once or twice but then she just turned and slammed the door in his face.

Paul turned and headed back. Teaspoon looked up as the younger man entered. He saw how Paul was still holding his cheek.

"You probably should've led with an apology," Teaspoon said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not really in the mood," Paul snapped.

"She's so much like her grandmother," Teaspoon chuckled.

"You think this is funny?"

"I wouldn't except that I've seen this story before...I know how it ends."

"I'm beginning to doubt more and more exactly what you know," Paul fumed, his cheek and pride still stinging.

"Reminds me of the time that your Aunt Lou and your Uncle Kid-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Paul yelled. "I can't take any more of your 'helpful' stories!"

Teaspoon was quiet after that. Paul thought it was nice for a little while and took advantage of the chance to think a little. He knew that he had handled everything wrong. He wanted to think he was wrong to even try to talk to her but...well, he'd never truly be able to stay away from her. The truth was that he loved her and even if she stayed angry at him forever-which he wouldn't put past her-he would continue to love her.

In time, Paul looked up to see if Teaspoon had perhaps fallen asleep but the man was just sadly looking out the window. Feeling like a heel, Paul knew he had to say something. If he wasn't careful, he really would push away everyone who cared about him.

"Granddad," he began tentatively. "I'm sorry. I was angry with myself and I took it out on you. I shouldn't've yelled at you like that."

"No, you're right, son," Teaspoon said hollowly. "I used to have something to offer the young 'uns. But I'm just an old man. God don't even want me...apparently the other fella don't either. My boys is gone...my wives is gone...even some of my grandbabies...I'm just an old man with a bunch of useless stories."

"Granddad...don't talk like that," Paul pleaded. "You don't even know what your stories mean to me...to so many of us. And God didn't forget you at all...I keep selfishly begging him to let us keep you around."

The old man snorted his disbelief.

"It's true...Granddad...I wasn't mad at you...it's me. I'm just..." Paul raked his hand through his dark hair. He noticed that it was getting long. If he went back he'd hear from his dad how he needed to get it cut. What did he mean if? Maybe...maybe he really needed to patch things up with Louise. "You got any good stories about Uncle Jimmy?"

"Couple," the old man said softly. "Let me think of a good one."

"I always liked stories about him," Paul said settling in with a smile. "I liked knowing something about him that no one else knew or would guess."

* * *

"Wake up, Granddad," Paul said softly as he nudged Teaspoon. "We're here."

"We're where?"

"Wyoming," Paul reminded gently. "Cody, Wyoming. Remember, Uncle Bill founded this town. Irma lives here."

"Oh, that's right," Teaspoon muttered more tired of needing to be reminded of things than any of the grandkids was of reminding him. "Outlived my welcome with the last bunch. Time to ship me off somewheres else."

"It's not like that, Granddad," Paul argued. "We all thought you'd appreciate the change in scenery and Uncle Bill knew nice scenery when he saw it. It's beautiful there. We want you to be happy."

Teaspoon merely grunted. He didn't doubt the boy's words but he knew that the motives of the others might not be the same. He wasn't easy to have around. He took looking after and care that he wasn't always comfortable needing.

He was brought from his thoughts by a light rapping on the door. Teaspoon watched as Paul answered the knocking and found Louise standing on the other side looking anywhere but at Paul.

"Louise," Paul said sounding shocked even though she was the only person who could logically be knocking on the door right then.

"Paul," she replied icily.

"I...I'm sorry," he sighed and then stared at her perplexed as she seemed to stiffen and look even angrier than before.

"I got a porter to come and help with the luggage if you can carry Granddad again. I could see Cousin Irma through the window. She's on the platform with her little ones waiting on us."

She never once met his eyes directly and her words were clipped and terse. Having said what she came to say, she spun on her heel and walked purposefully away. The bitter detachment in her voice actually hurt worse than the slap she'd given him before.

He turned back to his great-grandfather to see a bemused expression ghosting over the man's face.

"You're so smart and you know how this plays out," Paul said trying, and failing, to mask his desperation with annoyance. "What's my next move?"

"You'll figure it out."

"Yeah, I'm doing a great job of figuring it out so far."

* * *

Paul was certain he had never endured a more uncomfortable automobile ride in his life than the one that carried them to Cousin Irma's home. It was agreed that Teaspoon would sit up front where he could stretch his legs and be more comfortable. Arta's boy, Bill, drove and that left the rest of them in the back of the car together. Irma's oldest, Jane sat between her cousin and Teaspoon up front while Freddie and Willie sat on laps in the back.

The space, or lack thereof, was not what made the ride so uncomfortable. It was the fact that he was sandwiched between the women. Cousin Irma was a very nice lady and Paul was fond of her. He did not mind being squeezed in so close to her. But Louise was trying so hard to avoid him, she was nearly hanging out the window. He felt the need to apologize every time he inadvertently brushed against her, but not the desire.

His desires were filled with touching her and holding her and trying to figure out exactly how he had angered her and how to fix it.

"Are you a real Indian?" Little Freddie asked, his eyes filled with awe.

"Hardly," Paul replied with a chuckle. "My grandpa was half. I guess I just look a lot like him."

"You've let your hair grow too, I see," Irma noted without judgment.

"I know I should probably get it cut."

"No you shouldn't," Louise said softly. They were the first words she had spoken that weren't directed at one of the children. "You should grow it longer. It suits you."

"I don't think my father would agree," he responded.

Louise didn't say more. Paul was frustrated by her silence but he couldn't help feeling that he had made some nearly accidental progress with her. Maybe Granddad was right and he'd somehow figure this out. He didn't think it likely but maybe.

They got to Irma's and Teaspoon held up for a while as the rest of the family fussed over him but soon he was in need of a nap. Paul carried him into the room that would be his. Louise was inside the room putting Teaspoon's clothes away in the closet and chest of drawers. Seeing Paul enter, she quickly made her exit.

"She might be even more stubborn than her grandmother," Teaspoon sighed. "You got your work cut out for you. She'll come around though."

"You really think so?"

"She wants to...she just has to admit that she wants to. And you'll have to beg for it."

"I'm not above begging..."

"That'll serve you well with that filly."

"I don't even know exactly what I did wrong," Paul lamented.

"Men rarely do. Your Uncle Kid especially. Lou could get a bee in her bonnet over near to anything and she wasn't keen on letting anyone in on what was upsetting her. I felt for the boy. It all worked out in the end though."

"How did Uncle Kid do it?" Paul asked. "Get her to marry him, I mean. From what you say they were in love the whole time but she was stubborn like Louise. How did he get through to her?"

"Patience...and talking to her," Teaspoon replied. "Lou wasn't skilled in opening up and I guess men back then was less so than now even and that was probably the best part of their clashes. They just didn't talk enough. Or maybe they didn't talk about the right things. Anyway, once he backed off and gave her some space and then talked honestly to her...well, things got a whole lot better."

"I don't want to back off, Granddad. I just figured out how I feel and I don't want to wait anymore to see where it goes. I think...I think I want to marry her. That's really jumping the gun, isn't it?"

"Might not be...you're in a different position than Kid was and Louise has lived a different life than her grandmother did. You'll have to play it by ear a little."

"Well, that's no help."

Teaspoon chuckled.

"Let me think a bit, son...I might just have something left in my bag of tricks after all. Oh I think I do have a story for you. Might be you heard it and might be you ain't but it's a good 'un."

"Is it about Kid and Lou?" Paul asked hopefully.

"No."

"What good is that going to do me? I think I'll just go to bed. I don't need to listen to more of your pointless ramblings."

"Well yer gonna listen, whether you like it or not! You thought it stung when she slapped you...well, you don't heed what I'm about to say and a stinging cheek will seem like child's play."

Paul reluctantly sat back down in the chair he had recently vacated and looked impatiently at the frail old man.

"Louise might be just like her grandma but you ain't really anything like her grandpa. Funny thing is...you're like your own grandfather in some ways but not all. I would say in this case, and most since you got back, you're like your Uncle Jimmy."

"Uncle Jimmy?"

Teaspoon nodded and then gestured toward the glass of water on the night stand. Paul helped him have a drink and soon Teaspoon was speaking again.

"I didn't know the whole of this tale until a few years after it happened. I think Lou knew sooner but probably no one else did. Jimmy could be a very private person and he didn't share much about his romances. Of course the one time he did, your Aunt Lou decided to take her own romantic frustrations out on the situation. She pushed him and he almost ended up swinging from a noose. But that's a story you've heard before, I think."

Paul stayed quiet but nodded that he had heard the whole story of Sarah Downs and how she framed Jimmy for the murder of her husband.

"Well, Jimmy was going near to this little town and spotted some religious folk having a baptism. He stopped to watch. I don't think it had near as much to do with spiritual curiosity as it did with how pretty the woman getting baptized was," Teaspoon began. "I never saw her, mind you, but when Jimmy finally told me the story, it was clear in his eyes how captivating he thought she was. This group...they didn't believe in guns. I mean, I guess they might've hunted with rifles but they didn't go in for violence. Some other folks was trying to run them off their land mostly 'cause they didn't understand them. Jimmy wanted to help for a couple of reasons. First off the man never could abide a bully and that's all them other people was but more than that, he wanted to help this lady. Alice was her name. He even took them Colts of his off. Went around without 'em for a while. I think I was close to getting a letter telling me he weren't coming back. I saw enough of the path he was on at the time that I might've even been relieved to hear he gave up the guns and settled himself down."

"Why didn't he?"

"A man came looking for him. To call him out. Jimmy couldn't get out of it. He ended up killing the man. He left her and her people after that. He told me that he couldn't understand why they still asked him to stay after he visited that ugliness on them. They had though. Even Alice who had looked at him with such horror when he had killed the other man. She had run up and grabbed his gun out of his hand and screamed at him but still, she wanted him to stay. They called him family even after he had brought parts of the world to them they tried to stay pure of."

"They saw the good in him," Paul said.

"Yeah, it's funny, ain't it? Others can see us so much more clearly than we can see ourselves. Jimmy never felt worthy of that kind of love. He never put conditions on the love he gave but only on what he received. If he'd...well, we might still have him...or might've for longer. Do you see what I'm getting at, Paul?"

"I think I do," Paul replied, his voice thick with unshed tears. Then he cleared his throat and pulled the blankets more snugly around the man on the bed. "Goodnight, Granddad. I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too. You always been one of the special ones."

* * *

Opening the door to the porch, Paul could see Louise stiffen and turn her head slightly at the sound. He closed the door behind himself and walked to her, gently setting a cup on the small table beside her.

"Chamomile," he said. "Grandpa Buck swore by it when you're having trouble getting to sleep."

"Did you make a cup for yourself?" she asked. "I see you're awake too."

He shook his head.

"It quit working for me some time ago. I always have a hard time sleeping in a new place."

"Must've really gotten hard for you during the wa-" she stopped speaking abruptly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring that up. I know...I know it upsets you."

"It's okay. It doesn't bother me as much as you think. And I upset you first. Yeah, constant moving around during the war but then I don't think war is meant to be good for sleep."

He offered a lopsided grin and a wink.

"Since then, it's usually the nightmares that keep me from getting good rest."

"They're still bad?"

"Some nights," he admitted. He hadn't really talked to anyone since he'd come home. Not his father or sister. Not other veterans and especially none of the doctors who saw to him when he'd returned. They all wanted to talk about his mind and what the war had done to it but he was suspicious and stayed quiet. "Some nights it's not so bad."

"What do you see? The nightmares...what...what are they?"

"Nothing I want to talk about right now," he said brushing aside the question and the images that came with it. "I came out here to talk to you."

"I don't really feel like talking," she said seeming to close the small opening he had achieved.

"I didn't say you had to. I have things to say to you. Please listen."

Her eyes lifted to his at the pleading tone of his voice.

"I made you mad and I'm not entirely sure how I did it," he began. "I know better than to try to assume how you feel or what you thought. You've always taken me by surprise at every turn and thrown me for a loop every time I think I have you figured out. I know now that if I spent my whole life working at it, I would never solve all your puzzles and riddles."

He stood and paced away from her running a hand over his face before turning back to her and leaning against the porch railing.

"I always thought...I always thought of you...well, you were my favorite cousin. I looked forward to any gathering where I knew you'd be there. But when you started talking to me in the dining car...I guess I was surprised. I always thought you were so pretty but...never considered. Or maybe I never admitted to myself that I considered. But you...the way you talked. I don't think it registered what you were saying. I thought about it though. And I realized what I think you were trying to tell me and I realized what I felt for you. I went to talk to you and I really did mean to talk. I swear it. But I suddenly couldn't think of a single word to say. I know what I did wasn't the right thing to do right then. I know it wasn't. I'm not sorry I kissed you. I am sorry I didn't say anything first. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I loved you. I'm sorry I didn't ask about your plans. I'm just-"

"Kiss me," she interrupted.

"What?"

"Kiss me. Like you did before. Like you're trying to tell me everything in a kiss that you can't find words for. Kiss me."

He looked at her then. Truly looked at her for the first time since he had come out onto the porch. Her eyes were shining. She was standing now and looking at him expectantly. He took the two steps to where she was.

Tenderly he cupped the sides of her face in his hands. She closed her eyes and smiled lightly at the feel of his fingers gently caressing her cheeks.

"Louise, you are beautiful," he said with reverence. "I'm not sure I'm worthy of holding this beauty."

Her deep blue eyes opened to him and as they reflected the star light back at him, he knew. He knew so many things. He felt the peace he had always seen in Grandpa Buck's eyes. He knew where he belonged and who he was and what his purpose was.

Paul lowered his head and softly pressed his lips to hers. He heard her sigh sweetly as he moved his mouth over hers. Her arms slipped over his shoulders and soon her fingers were entwined in his hair.

Louise's mouth opened, inviting him in and he willingly explored her. Her kiss was sweet but held a passion he'd never known. He'd seen her fire and fury before but never...this. He couldn't get enough of it and did all he could to return it. His hands moved from her face and down her sides to the small of her back, pulling her tight against him. He was lost in the ragged rhythm of her breathing as it pressed her chest against his. His heart beat in time.

For this moment, there was no thought of his own worth. There was no thought of if he should have survived or why. There was only Louise and her mouth against his in the moonlight. She was his and whether or not he deserved her, he would keep her. Loving her was his purpose. It might sound insignificant but in that moment, it was the world.

Eventually the kiss ended and he rested his forehead against hers trying to catch his breath.

"I've never been kissed like that," Louise said finally.

"Neither have I," he answered with a chuckle. "I should have said it before but...I love you, Louise."

She giggled and even in the scant light, he could see the blush rise to her cheeks.

"I love you too," she whispered.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Paul?" Bill asked as he stood beside Teaspoon's wheelchair. Paul was readying a horse.

"Granddad wants to go for a ride," Paul said matter-of-factly. "He's over a hundred years old. He should be able to do anything he wants."

"He can't sit a saddle..."

"But I can. And stop talking about him like he's not sitting right there. I'm almost done here, Granddad."

Soon Paul was astride the horse and Bill was lifting Teaspoon up to him. Paul situated the older man in front of him on the saddle and they were off.

"Sorry about the slow pace, Granddad," Paul said once they'd gone a short ways. "We're sort of precarious here and I don't dare go too fast."

"This is fine, son. Just glad to be on a horse again."

They rode a while in silence before Teaspoon dared encroach on it.

"You seem lighter today. Am I to guess you spoke to Louise?"

"It's that obvious?"

"Probably not to anyone else but to an old geezer like me...I've seen a lot in my time."

"We talked and...it's good."

"You're staying here then, aren't you?"

"Sort of...she's not going back so neither am I," Paul replied. "And it'll be best anyway. I think she was looking out for what was best for me before...well, before she had to."

"She probably was. Of course what's best for you might also be what's best for her. That might just be what makes things so good for the two of you."

"I'd like to think maybe it is."

"So what's the plan?"

"Remember Rachel marrying that fellow and moving north to a ranch up in Montana?" Paul asked.

"I do. She was so happy. He was a good man too."

"Their son ran the place for a time but the grandchildren don't want any part of it. Louise has her inheritance saved from when her grandma died and she's going to buy them out. The son, Jesse, is selling it at a great price. He's getting too old to run the place and just wants out from under it. He says he doesn't need much to live out his days. Well, now that I'm a part of it...I've got some money saved too. We're going to buy it and run it together. It feels right."

"Your pa ain't going to be pleased. Ike was always a straight-laced one. Never could figure how he came out of the parents he did."

"I know," Paul acknowledged. "But a man has to find his own way. You say that and I've heard my dad echo that statement before. This is my way."

"It's a good way. Honest way to live," Teaspoon said. "How about we stop up there by that tree and have us a rest?"

"Sounds good. It sure is pretty around here. I can see why Uncle Bill lived here."

"I agree with you there, son."

The two were soon settled in the shade of a sweeping oak that sat atop a hill. Paul figured he could see near to eternity from where they were. It was breathtaking. It awed him to think that his grandfather and uncles had seen views like this every day of their lives when they were younger. They probably took them for common place. Paul wasn't sure he could ever get used to such expansive beauty but he knew he'd sure like to try.

"I can't help looking to the horizon for one of my riders to be coming in," Teaspoon said absently. It was almost as if he was talking to himself. "I thought this place would make me feel better. Like everyone did, I guess. It makes me sad. It's like I'm closer to them...but still so far. Why did God take my boys and not me, Paul? I'd've traded my life for any one of them to live."

"I know you would've. I think they knew it too."

"I know it upsets you when I say it but...I don't want to be here anymore. I miss my boys. I outlived my usefulness. I don't understand this world anymore."

"I know that's how you feel," Paul said sadly. "I know. I also know how selfish I am every time I wish you could live forever. But you're so far from useless. I wish you could see what you've meant to me. I dread the day...but I know it's coming."

"Sooner than you know."

"I don't understand," Paul said.

"I know your grandfather told you a good deal about his people, the Kiowa, I mean."

Paul nodded not knowing where this was going. Granddad's voice was growing faint. They'd have to head back and get him out of the sun soon.

"Well, Indians has a different attitude about things like life and death," Teaspoon began. "I didn't learn that from your grandfather. I learned it when my second wife died. She was Indian, you know. The elders...when they got old...they would just know when their time was up. They'd head off on their own and just let the life slip from them. I can't get too far on my own."

"Granddad...no."

Teaspoon reached a bony and weathered hand toward the younger man.

"It's alright," he whispered. "I learned you all I could. I learned you more'n I had the chance to for anyone else. You got your Louise now. You're going to be alright. It's all going to be fine now. You got my bag of tricks and you got your uncles always riding shotgun with ya."

"I'm not ready for you to go yet, Granddad."

"I'm way past ready to go though. You take care of Louise and when you two get around to having some little ones, you arm 'em with what I learned you."

Paul clung to the old man's hand. He watched as a giddy, almost childlike smile crossed the man's face.

"I'm going to see my boys," Teaspoon rasped. "I can't wait to...I've missed them so much."

Teaspoon took one deep breath and let it shakily out. The smile faded from his face and his hand grew limp in Paul's grasp.

Paul felt it as the man left. The breeze kicked up right then and was unseasonably warm. It jostled the leaves on the trees and tousled his hair even as it seemed to embrace him. The clouds moved and for a moment, the sun shone warm on Paul's face.

"Ride safe, Granddad," Paul whispered as he let the tears slip down his cheeks.

* * *

**So...this story marks the 100th that I have published here between the two fandoms I have written for. I am very proud of this accomplishment and wanted to offer something special for the occasion. I hope this was that something special.**

**This was an emotional story to write. The time is coming very soon for me to say goodbye to my Nana. I know she is suffering and I know she is ready to go...but, like Paul in the story, I am not ready for her to leave me. It also made me think about a man I lost 20 years ago. I was very blessed to have my great-grandfather in my life until a couple months before my 21st birthday. He was a wonderful man. Much like Teaspoon. He did so much to shape the best parts of who I am and I miss him terribly always. **

**I have to thank Beulah for taking this journey with me. Your heart, your tender, gentle spirit...and your questions...you make me better and make me feel so very loved while I become better. You are truly a treasure.**

**And to the ladies at the plus...I dare say I wouldn't have come near 100 stories without all of you! You are all invited over for cupcakes later...I am going to write "100" on each one in pretty sparkly pink icing! Because that is just a very me thing to do.**

**Thank you, dear readers for being there for these stories...now onward toward the next 100! - Jenna**

* * *

**I Shall Be Released** – Bob Dylan

They say ev'rything can be replaced  
Yet ev'ry distance is not near  
So I remember ev'ry face  
Of ev'ry man who put me here  
I see my light come shining  
From the west unto the east  
Any day now, any day now  
I shall be released

They say ev'ry man needs protection  
They say ev'ry man must fall  
Yet I swear I see my reflection  
Some place so high above this wall  
I see my light come shining  
From the west unto the east  
Any day now, any day now  
I shall be released

Standing next to me in this lonely crowd  
Is a man who swears he's not to blame  
All day long I hear him shout so loud  
Crying out that he was framed  
I see my light come shining  
From the west unto the east  
Any day now, any day now  
I shall be released.


End file.
